e good--she permitted Meg to undress
her and even to put her in the little bath, but once there she always
said firmly, "Tony wass me," and Tony did.

Then he burned his hand.

He was never openly and obstreperously disobedient like little Fay. On
the whole he preferred a quiet life free from contention. But very early
in their acquaintance Jan had discovered that what Tony determined upon
that he did, and in this he resembled her so strongly that she felt a
secret sympathy with him, even when such tenacity of purpose was most
inconvenient.

He liked to find things out for himself, and no amount of warning or
prohibition could prevent his investigations. Thus it came about that,
carefully guarded as the children were from any contact with the fires,
Tony simply didn't believe what was told him of their dangers.

Fires were new to him. They were so pretty, with their dancing flames,
it seemed a pity to shut them in behind those latticed guards Auntie Jan
was so fond of. Never did Tony see the fires without those tiresome
guards and he wanted to very much.

One afternoon just before tea, while Meg was changing little Fay's
frock, he slipped across to the drawing-room where Auntie Jan was busy
writing a letter. Joy! the guard was off the fire; he could sit on the
rug and watch it undisturbed. He made no noise, but knelt down softly in
front of it and stretched out his hands to the pleasant warmth. It was
the sort of fire Tony liked to watch, red at the heart, with little
curling flames that were mirrored in the tiled hearth.

Jan looked up from her writing and saw him there, saw also that there
was no guard, but, as little Fay had not yet come, thought Tony far too
sensible to interfere with the fire in any way. She went on with her
writing; then when she looked again something in the intentness of his
attitude caused her to say: "Be sure you don't get too near the fire,
Tony; it hurts badly to be burned."

"Yes, Auntie Jan," Tony said meekly.

She wrote a few lines more, looked up, and held her breath. It would
have been an easy matter even then to dash across and put on the guard;
but in a flash Jan realised that to let Tony burn himself a little at
that moment might save a very bad accident later on. There was nothing
in his clothes to catch alight. His woollen jersey fitted closely.

Exactly as though he were going to pick a flower, with curved hand
outstretched Tony tried to capture and hold one of the danci